The Day I Met Buddha



 Yesterday's journey to the Monastery and Buddhist Temple of Hwanseongsa turned out to be everything that I'd hoped it would be and so much more.  I started out at 9 AM and did not end up in the proper direction of my destination until about noon.  Thankfully I had the forethought to throw a sandwich and drink into my pack before I left. The road toward the monastery was filled with signs, most of them had pictures so that I, the Hangeul-dumb, might be able to follow along the route.  However, these signs almost immediately ended as soon as I got far enough away from home to not want to turn back.  Long story short, I spent miles walking up a steep one lane mountain road with cars and trucks whizzing by, cursing my sense of adventure and wondering when an appropriate time to give up would be.  That's pretty much how most of my adventures go, now that I think about it.  I finally came upon the monastery, and came across a "keeper of the monastery" (my name for her) who spoke no English but waved me through.  The many shrines to Buddha were gorgeous and it was an amazing feeling just to walk through and gaze at the beautiful artwork.  A few of the alcoves were located across a bridge/ramp made of old scraps of tin reaching over a gorge.  For those of you who know me, you understand how deathly afraid of heights I am.  I conquered these fears and quickly made my way over the bridge to find..



Nazi Buddha.  Convinced that I had come across some sort of strange worship of the German Nazi's, I made my way back down, into the main of the monastery, (I would later find out via the internet that the swastika is actually a symbol of Buddha's mind and heart, and very historically religious, PHEW!) and back down to where a sizeable group of people were standing.  They were very excited to have an American at their Monastery and after two phonecalls (they kept putting me on the phone to talk with people in their family who spoke English.  I'm not certain of whether they thought that I might miss having people to talk to or whether they were trying to prove that an American was visiting Hwanseongsa)  In either case, they took me back through the outdoor altars and into the monastery again excitedly pointing out their favorite features, like the goldfish pond that had netting to prevent birds from getting in. (the miming and handmotions to explain the netting were FANTASTIC.)  They took me back into the monastery temple again but this time the cleaning lady stepped forward to teach me how to pray.  She seemed quite offended that I hadn't done it the first time around, I think.  (I offered a couple of Kamsahamnida's as way of appology, as I don't know that word yet).  These people really get into their worship.  You have to throw yourself on the floor, place your head on the ground, raise your arms while crossing your legs and then jump up. This process must be repeated 7 times, a point that was emphasized by my BFF, the cleaning lady when she scowled at me, raised 7 fingers and repeated "7", over and over.  Point taken I did my cardio routine much to the pleasure of the Korean's around me.  They were so excited, I really couldn't see a point in offending them further (as I snapped about a million pictures before I found out that was not polite).  After my tour, I was put on the phone with yet another relative, this time to inform me of their intent to drive me to the real temple up the hill.  So, after a short car ride, we arrived at the real Hwanseongsa temple which was built originally in 856 (although it burned down twice and was rebuilt)  The location and the temple and off stations were gorgeous, although under rennovation.  I was unable to go inside, or snap any photo's but this is what the buildings looked like before rennovations started.

  
I was honored to be a part of their day, and to see these very historical places.  The ornate statues and artwork from the building had been moved to another house for temporary storage, and I was able to view them before departing.  Although I am not a Buddhist, I cannot help but be awe struck at the level of dedication with which these temples have been cared for over the past 1200+ years.  There has been a monk (I was able to meet the current one) living in the Monastery and caring for the temple since it was built.   After the visit I thanked everyone and then made my way back down the winding road, feeling much more at peace than I had in a long time.  Of course, while I was thinking that, I accidently slipped off of the side of the road and down an embankment where I tore my favorite blue jeans.  You win some, you lose some.

To emphasize, they were not Nazi Buddha's.  That's a joke.  Here's the real history of the swastika via religionfacts.com: In Buddhism, the swastika signifies auspiciousness and good fortune as well as the Buddha's footprints and the Buddha's heart. The swastika is said to contain the whole mind of the Buddha and can often be found imprinted on the chest, feet or palms of Buddha images